Remembering
by Arabella Thorne
Summary: In late autumn, Elrond remembers his brother


Admittedly writtenin anhour and a half, here's a little melancholy elf lord , before the Day of the Dead...  
  
Happy Halloween!  
  
The wind swept the branches across the windows of the glass terrace doors as the Lord of Imladris sat at his study desk, tallying the final fall harvest.  
  
The wind made the candelabra flicker and dance and he could feel the cool tendrils of air across his face.  
  
He put his quill down and rested his chin on his folded hands. He listened to the wind's voice as it sounded through the valley.  
  
The candlelight glittered in his thoughtful eyes as his long memory went back to the night his brother Elros died.  
  
The anniversary was tonight in fact. How many years had it been now? He shook his head slightly and stared at the flames in the fireplace across from his desk.  
  
It did not matter how long ago it was. The night had been like this: cold, windy, the year turning to winter silence.  
  
Elrond had been with his brother in his castle by the sea. Though well made and comfortable, the howling storm outside still stirred the tapestries on the wall and made the bedside candles dance.  
  
He had spent the last two weeks doing all he could do to ease his brother's pains. His old age. Elrond's heart clenched in remembered pain. Elros, old! His hair wispy and thin, his face lined with wrinkles, his eyes filmy and dim.  
  
The night he died, the healer had sat in his brother's bed, leaning against the heavily carved wood. He held his brother to him, his sibling's head upon his shoulder.  
  
"Elrond, I am ready to go but I still worry: What will happen?"  
  
"It will survive. Your son will see to that. Do not worry your last hours away with such thoughts. All is in hand. Your son will make a fine king."  
  
Elros chuckled dryly, "Better than I?"  
  
Elrond clutched him to him, laughing. "No, never that good!"  
  
Elros fell silent, and Elrond winced as he heard the rattle of his brother's breath. He sighed heavily in frustration.  
  
"It is my turn to say now Elrond: Do not fret. I am ready to go. I have lived a long and productive life! I have seen Numenor rise as a proud swan taking flight, a glory among the lands of Middle Earth. I have had a loving wife and children. All is at peace."  
  
"Save my heart," whispered Elrond, his sorrow giving way.  
  
"Nay brother. Do not lose your heart over my death. Remember all I have been, all YOU have been. We have achieved much in our lives." Elros struggled to sit up, to look his brother in the face. "You have time enough to do so much more! You can become the foremost healer in Middle Earth! And you have still to marry."  
  
Elrond bent and kissed his brother's thin, snowy hair. "I have no need to marry now. And as for being the foremost healer, why then can I not stop this illness!?"  
  
"It is not illness, it is just old age, my brother. I can be your first real study case. You can write notes and-"  
  
"NO!" Elrond cut him off fiercely. "You are not a thing to be poked and studied and.eviscerated. You are the King of Numenor. You are my brother." He bent, his head, tears sliding slowly down his beardless cheeks. "I love you."  
  
"As I do you, Elrond. And I am so grateful that you have been with me these last days."  
  
"There is no where else I would be."  
  
Elros' breath hissed and Elrond felt his brother's thin frame shake. "Breathe my brother!"  
  
The king dragged in a noisy breath, and Elrond could feel him relax. He put a hand on his brother's chest to push in healing energy to ease his pain.  
  
"I am all right, Elrond. You cannot fix this! Death is a part of the mortal world. I chose this and so it should end."  
  
"Ahh," Elrond said thoughtfully, "but what if you had chosen otherwise? What if you had chosen to be Elven?"  
  
"My life would have been completely different." Some of his old asperity crept into his tone. "You and I would not be having this conversation." He coughed a bit and Elrond adjusted him more comfortably in his arms. "We have had this conversation many and many a time, my brother. I do not regret it." Elros looked up into the dark grey eyes of his brother, which were swimming in tears. "I only regret I shall not see you wed. And settled."  
  
"I am settled."  
  
"Living in rooms in my palace is not settled, Elrond. A place of your own, your own family."  
  
"You are my family now."  
  
"Not for long."  
  
Elrond hugged him hard. A dull boom of thunder cracked outside the walls and for a moment, both were silent.  
Elros took in another rattling breath and began to choke.  
  
Elrond did what he could. His brother's breathing eased some, but the healer in him knew his time was nigh.  
  
He bowed his head over his brother's thin form, his lips pressed to his cheek.  
  
Unable to stop himself, Elrond said brokenly, "Do not go Elros! Do not leave me!"  
  
A hand, skin translucent, blue veins sketching lines through out, reached up and cupped Elrond's face. "Look at me," the king whispered.  
  
Elrond adjusted himself so he could look into the faded blue grey eyes of his brother. "I am, Elros."  
  
"I do not fear my passing. Remember all that was good about me Elrond. Remember all that we have achieved, together. Remember, most of all, my love for you." Elros coughed again, a deep wheezing sound. Elrond clutched him harder.  
  
"I shall never leave your heart Elrond. You know this." He coughed again and stiffened in his arms. "You know.this.."  
  
He coughed again and then, his spirit fled. Elrond bowed his head and sobbed out loud over the still dead form of his brother, the First King of Numenor.  
  
The Lord of Imladris stirred himself out his memories. It was like rising out of a drugged sleep. Rubbing his hands briskly across his face, his palms came away wet.  
  
Sighing heavily, Elrond whispered, "Oh Elros.."  
  
Just then, the study door banged open, and in rushed the cool night air and two small, five-year-old elflings with painted faces, trailed by the stately form of his wife.  
  
"Ada, Ada! Look!" Elrohir held up a small basket, the handle dangling ribbons, filled with fruits and small wrapped sweets. "I got the most because I found hidden acorns!"  
  
"No Ada, I found more. Look at my basket!" piped up Elladan.  
The elf lord, so very grateful for the interruption, grabbed both his boys and pulled them into a hug as he sat on the long padded bench in front of the large window overlooking the valley.  
  
Celebrian came up to him them and bent and kissed her husband. "The boys did find a great many acorns. And your counselors spoiled them shamelessly with all these sweets."  
  
Elrond looked fondly at his sons, their painted faces alight with joy. "Well, we had to come up with something for the young ones to do this night, the last night of harvest. It was too cold for them to hunt in the gardens."  
  
"Indeed, herven. And I am happy to say, the chaos created by fifteen little ones rushing about the lower floors is minimal."  
  
The elflings wiggled out of their father's grasp and then stood before him, clutching their painted baskets. "Ada," Elladan said, "Come to the Hall of Fire! It is time for dancing and cider."  
  
"And we can trade sweets with Amarfal and Dilafar," added Elrohir.  
  
"Of course." Elrond, stood, his golden robes settling into soft folds at his feet. The twins scampered out and Celebrian, taking the moment, flowed into his arms and hugged him tightly. She lifted her face and kissed him with feeling.  
  
"Memories, my love?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, memories of Elros."  
  
Celebrian nodded. Her husbands sorrow over his brother's choice was strongest on the anniversary of his death. "Come, let us go to the Hall of Fire. The night is young and much dancing is ahead."  
Elrond felt his heart relax and he put his arm around his wife. Just as they were about to leave, the elflings rushed back to the still open study door. "Come Ada and Nana! You are going to miss everything!" yelled Elladan.  
  
"No, Elladan, I promise, I shall miss nothing,"  
  
The elf lord took his son's hand and Celebrian took Elrohir's and the family left for the Hall of Fire.  
  
Outside, the wind had lessened and the last leaves settled on the terrace stones.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~the end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
